


Another Ocean

by chekovthechosen



Series: On the Other Side [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bodyswap, Comedy, Fantasy, M/M, Mpreg, Timeskip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekovthechosen/pseuds/chekovthechosen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Broken. That was the only word to describe Mark's marriage to Jackson, his long gone friendships, his career, his life, his heart. Then all of a sudden he wakes up five years in the past. Jackson is kind to him and GOT7 are together as one. His friends are still his friends. His family is intact. Everything seems just too good to be true and the more he traverses this strange new world, he begins to wonder:</p>
<p>Is this a dream come true - or a nightmare he can never wake up from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Second Chances (and how to ruin them)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation to Another Sky - looks at the perspective of the Mark from an alternate universe. (Note that this actually can be read first if you'd like ^^.)
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who read and supported Another Sky! I wouldn't be here uploading this story without you guys <3   
> All your support means the world to me and it's all motivated me to keep writing until we've reached this point and I can't be happier. You are some very special people who have put up with me and my writing and I can't thank you enough. When I was going through hard times, nothing made me happier than uploading a chapter and being able to read all your comments. They made me laugh and smile <3
> 
> Enough of that~ Hope you all enjoy the sequel! *bows* I will work hard ^^

Wrong. Something was wrong. The air felt like some kind of poisonous gas; the diffused light streaming through the window like the harsh glare of a police spotlight targeting a criminal.

 

Bleary-eyed, Mark rolled over and tried to shake off the feeling. He was so tired from crying that his bones were made of lead. His eyelids had a ton of bricks holding them shut. He just couldn’t be bothered with this, with any of it. He knew he had to get up soon though, before Jackson woke up.

 

In the end, he really hadn’t had the strength. It all went wrong. Jackson came home late, very late at night, and drunk, from a company party. At least, that’s what he said it was. This left Mark’s plans of apologising to him and righting everything in a lurch – it also made him feel a million times worse. Hatred to Jackson, hatred to himself; pain, sadness, anger, they were practically boiling inside him.

 

Then he crashed. He just cried and cried and when Jackson flinched even in his stupor, Mark realised how much he’d messed up. How much he hurt Jackson. Perhaps in the end, it was better to leave without a word and let Jackson believe he’d gone elsewhere, that he was out there somewhere. Not to let him know the truth.

But after a beat, Jackson took him into his arms and it felt like all the broken pieces of him were being melded back together again. He couldn’t remember exactly what he said, it was flowing out of him so fast, but in the end it was okay. He said what he wanted to say, even if it wasn’t how he planned.

 

Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, the lack of sleep hammering his head. He was just stretching off the exhaustion in his limbs with a big yawn when he heard a familiar voice.

 

“So I see sleeping beauty is finally awake.”

 

His eyes snapped open to see a handsome face now inches away from his. With a yelp, he scrambled back, startled.

 

“Jackson!” Mark spluttered. “What are you doing up so early?”

 

“Early?” He laughed good-naturedly. “We’re late to go to practice. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

 

Either this was a bad prank or he’d completely lost it. Did Jackson just say practice? Clearly the look of absolute bewilderment on his face was so powerful that some of the confusion rubbed off on Jackson, who now furrowed his brow. His heart began to hammer hard against his chest like it was planning to break his ribcage in order to escape. The room was different. It wasn’t his house. Where was this place?

 

“What, was the pizza last night so good you forgot everything?” The Hong Kong native ruffled his hair with a chuckle. “Come on now. If you move quickly enough we can still make it on time.”

 

Warily, he kept an eye on this strange Jackson and pulled back the covers to stand up. However, as soon as he hoisted himself up, an immense wave of nausea hit him and he immediately crouched down with a hand clamped over his mouth. His gag reflex was struggling quite fiercely against his will to tamp it down.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jackson was on his knees beside him in an instant.

 

Shaking for a few moments, Mark tried to let it subside before grinding out, “Where’s the bathroom here?”

 

Stunned for a second, Jackson was still. Then he told him to stay there and shouted for Youngjae to grab a bucket, waving the other member off when he asked questions.

 

“Come back later.” He said softly, rubbing circles into Mark’s back. Turning his attention back to his roommate he continued, “If you’re feeling sick don’t try to hold it back, it’ll just make things worse. And I don’t want you moving around, alright? Stay here.”

 

The sudden warmth of Jackson also shocked him greatly. It was like someone plucked him off the face of the Earth and put him on another planet. Weakly, he laughed and pushed the bucket away.

 

“I don’t know what joke this is but you can leave me alone, I’ll be fine. And since when did Youngjae come to our house? I thought he hated me too much to enter my cave of sins or whatever he thinks it is.”

 

This threw Jackson for a loop. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he opened and closed his mouth for a while. Then, he threw back his head and laughed.

 

“You’re pranking me in this condition? Moreover, how much money did Jinyoung give you to talk this much?” He changed to a more comfortable sitting position.

 

There was a long pause. Mark stared at Jackson, taking in his considerably more youthful appearance; his surroundings and how they were not only completely different but look strikingly similar to Got7’s dorms back in the day; the behaviour of the people around him who really shouldn’t have much to do with him – finally he reached a conclusion.

 

“I’ve gone crazy.” Suddenly, the laughter bubbled up inside him as tears welled up in his eyes. “I drove myself crazy and now I’m hallucinating the good times. When Jackson comes home – if he’s not home already – I’ll be shipped off to a psych ward and out of his hair forever. Then he and Bambam will have something to celebrate.”

 

“What, did you have a bad dream?” Still the delusion persisted with earnest. “What about Bambam and I? What happened with us in it?”

 

“So what, the only way to escape from this is to die?” He ignored Jackson and began thinking aloud. “Well, that was the plan anyways. Though maybe I wouldn’t mind hallucinating this sort of thing forever, unless my screwed-up mind somehow makes it go sour.”

 

“You’re really not okay, are you?” Jackson tried putting a hand on his shoulder but was smacked away, and hard.

 

Like a kicked puppy, he rubbed his stinging hand with an affronted look on his face. The only sound was from the other members chattering away outside, watery conversations from which no words could be distinguished.

 

All of sudden, Mark scrambled for the door. He fell to his knees and stumbled once or twice, easily caught up to by Jackson who strongly dissuaded his movements. His breath was coming fast, the edges of his vision starting to fill in with black.

 

Fumbling with the door handle as he wrestled against Jackson’s protective hug which dragged him away, he finally got it to work. Immediately the door swung open and he fell, sprawled onto the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he felt much worse than before.

 

Looking down the hall, he could see the stunned members of Got7 frozen where they had been talking animatedly. The conversation had died almost instantaneously.

 

Concerned, Youngjae put down his cup of coffee and asked, “Mark hyung, are you okay?”

 

Dizzied by all the strange events going on, Mark muttered to himself, “I’m seriously gonna hurl.”

 

With lightning speed, Jackson had the bucket in hand and was helping Mark up while shoving the bright red plastic thing at him. At the table, the members were at a loss for what to do. They’d stood up but hadn’t dared to come much closer, except for JB who was now edging to Mark’s side where he knelt.

 

“What’s wrong, Mark?” He pressed. “You have to tell us.”

 

The ex-idol searched his eyes and found that familiar, earnest love and concern. Finally, something that wasn’t foreign. This was JB. With a sound that broke in his throat, he flung his arms around the other and buried his face in his neck. This threw JB for a loop; he was shocked speechless and stiff as a board in Mark’s embrace.

 

“Jaebum, I’m so scared.” He murmured. He was trembling like there was an earthquake inside him, fists clinging to JB’s shirt. “I’m scared.”

 

JB could feel the cold dampness through his clothes and knew right away that Mark was crying. Alarmed, he stroked his back sympathetically and began to comfort him. He didn’t know what was wrong with Mark yet but he could find out later. What mattered now was making him feel better.

 

“Why are you scared, Mark?” He questioned softly, in an attempt to let his friend get his problems off his chest. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

“I’m alone.” He sobbed, the words fragmented by the sharp gasps that racked his chest. “I’m all alone.”

 

“No, you’re not, hyung!” Bambam ventured from where he was, determined to help. “We’re here for you, we always will be.”

 

“Liar!” Mark snapped loudly, making Bambam cower. Weeping still, he went on, “JB, it’s happening again. What do I do? I said I would do everything I could to make it stop but it’s happening again.”

 

“What is?”

 

“There. And there too.” He pointed right at a startled Bambam. Then his finger moved to Youngjae and Yugyeom and Jinyoung. Then Jackson. “I can see them.” He said, barely above a whisper. His voice was cracking on almost every word and it was heart wrenching. “Bambam is there, he’s talking to me. I – I’m seeing the dorms. Jackson is being so sweet, I just…. I just can’t take this anymore. I don’t know how you got here, but I know _you’re_ real.”

 

Pulling back so their faces were inches apart, he stared at him with glistening eyes, swirling with all the emotions churning inside him like an angry sea. Everyone was like a statue. Youngjae’s grip on his coffee cup handle was so tight that his knuckles had gone white. There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity.

 

Then, Mark leant in and kissed Jaebum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept feeling like this wasn't up to standard? But at the same time I won't change it because I think that this is pretty much the sequence of events that would happen. Disclaimer - this Mark is very snarky and cynical, hence the drastic change in chapter titling style. I just felt it would suit him better XD


	2. Convincing Your Friends that You're Insane 101

All hell broke loose. Jinyoung ripped Mark apart from JB quite forcefully. He stared at him with a gaze made of fire, wordless. He was furious, that much Mark could tell. Not just that, but his eyes glimmered with tears – whether out of anger or hurt or a mixture of both, it was impossible to tell.

 

With a laugh, Mark broke the silence and said, “Look, he hates me here too.”

 

“What are you even talking about?” Jinyoung shouted, full of ferocity. “And why would you do that to me? I thought we were friends!”

 

“Oh, sweetheart.” The other man chuckled through the tears that were still rolling down his face. “No, we aren’t. I want to tell you, the real you to your face one day but I don’t want to make things difficult for Jaebum.” He crawled forward in an attempt to grasp Jaebum’s hand, who quickly snatched it away.

 

“Mark, that crossed a line.” He said in a low tone, holding his stare.

 

“Jaebum…” He choked out. “Please tell me this isn’t real. It can’t be. I love you.”

 

At this Jaebum flinched and said, almost dangerously this time, “Mark. Stop it. Right now.”

 

Collapsing into fresh wails, Mark curled up into a ball on the floor. He couldn’t even breathe. What was real and what wasn’t? His throat was burning, closing up. His lungs felt raw and raked and he began to get dizzy.

 

“Oh my god.” Jackson had his hands just above Mark, hovering there as if he was unsure what to do. “What do we do?”

 

“Take him to the hospital!” Bambam urged desperately, and Youngjae whipped out his phone to call a taxi.

 

Terrified, Jackson put a tender hand on Mark’s shoulder. He was trembling violently, almost like an electric shock was running through him. Mark felt like his heart was just about to burst; it was beating at a rate that felt like it was a bomb about to explode with each tick. Nothing was real. He was crazy. And now his baby was going to suffer for it.

 

He immediately detected that drop in his stomach, sending warning signals in his head. Although he was panicking, his body seemed to move on its own as he pitched forward into a sitting position and grabbed the bucket with a sense of desperation. He was really crying now, hot tears streaming down his reddened cheeks, the sounds echoing into the plastic bucket.

 

No matter how he tried to get himself to calm down, it didn’t work. He tried to force his nausea away but that didn’t work either, he knew it wouldn’t. But he was scared. He hated this, he hated all of it. He just wanted it all to go away. And he wanted those visions to go away too, the ghosts from the past. They were probably watching him with disdain and disgust and – suddenly there was a firm hand patting his back gently.

 

“Mark, it’s okay. Shh, it’s all going to be okay.” That was Jackson.

 

 Something unexpected happened then: all the fear just melted away like butter. It was like how Jackson used to comfort him when he was sick having Yueniang, how he used to nurse both his mind and body back to health.

“I don’t want them to see me.” He gasped out, tense and shaking.

 

Jackson probably waved them off, because there was a flurry of fast footsteps going away. As Jackson continued to comfort him, he gave up resisting and simply prepared himself for the awful feeling as he emptied his stomach into the bucket. Jackson never even missed a beat as he stroked his back and fed him with encouragements. When he was done, Jackson helped him over to the wall so he could lean against it while he emptied out the bucket. Slowly, everyone emerged on Jackson’s signal and rushed over to check on Mark.

 

“I’m going to lift you now.” Jackson warned just as he scooped Mark up in his arms, almost effortlessly. God, had Mark lost weight? Suddenly he was so skinny that it scared him. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”

 

“It’s nothing.” The smaller boy slurred. “Just a panic attack… I’m better now.”

 

“No, it isn’t.” He said resolutely. “You were feeling sick since you woke up, and there is most definitely something wrong.”

 

“Yeah, but,” He rubbed his temples weakly. “It’s normal. Look, I don’t even care anymore what’s real or not.” He laughed. “This awful dream won’t stop me. If this is god’s way of sparing Jackson, I don’t care because it won’t make a difference to me. I’m done with it all. And it’s probably selfish,” He looked up at Jackson. Both their gazes were so emotive that it felt like their souls were brushing against each other. “But I won’t let Caiyun be born into a life like this. No – that sounds righteous doesn't it? Actually I’m a selfish bitch. I can’t live like this anymore, I can’t take it.”

 

“Shh, Mark.” He put him down on the couch slowly, his touch soft as a feather. “Calm down. We have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you sure you’re okay? Who is Caiyun?”

 

“Why am I bothering to talk to you…” He wiped at his eyes. “You aren’t even real.” Tenderly, he looked down at his stomach and put a hand on it, guarding his baby from the world. “Caiyun… she’s a beautiful soul. I can already tell. I just know she’s a girl, a gorgeous little girl whose smile will light up my world. She has eyes like gemstones and a laugh like music.” He broke down into sobs. “I’m so sorry to her. I don’t want to lose her but I know she’s an old soul, she understands. She understands that mommy just can’t have her right now and we will meet again in the next life, where things are different.”

 

All of Got7 watched him in astonishment, too stupefied by what was going on to be able to piece together right away what he meant. First, Yugyeom was struck by the realisation, and gasped.

 

“Mark,” He started, and everyone looked at him. “Are you… pregnant?”

 

Gobsmacked, they all whirled back to Mark, who just kept crying without an answer. His cheeks were on fire, and he bent over to bury his face in his knees. He didn’t want them to see him, and he didn’t want to see how they were looking at him. How his ‘friends’ in the past would react to him being so savage and broken. What kind of monster was he, to kill himself and take his baby girl with him? Was it really a favour to her or a curse?

 

“Caiyun-ah, forgive mommy, okay?” He gulped in heaving breaths of air for a few moments before staggering to his feet.

 

“Mark, stay where you are.” Jaebum cautioned, but he was pushed out of the way.

 

All eyes were on Mark as he went through all the kitchen drawers. He flung them open one by one and scrabbled through the unfamiliar contents. His gaze finally landed on the knife handles and he seized one to the immediate alarm of all the members.

 

“Put that down.” Jaebum said, slow and careful like talking to a child.

 

Mark held it to his wrist, poised to slash down and Bambam let out a small squeal of terror. Fear hung thickly in the air for a drawn out moment.

 

 Just then, Jackson grabbed him from where he crept up behind him and used some kind of move to twist the knife out of his hand and force him to the ground.

 

“What the hell was that?” He panted. “Mark, you have to explain what’s going on.”

 

Turning, he quaked there in silence for a long while under Jackson. Then he shifted to his knees, slowly lifting Jackson’s shirt, to everyone’s shock.

 

“Mark, what are you - ”

 

“Shh.” He said, but he was numb.

 

Jackson’s skin was practically spotless and blemish-free. It was devoid of any marks, scratches or scars that should have been there. No bruises. No wounds. He was safe. Unharmed.

 

His underlying instincts were right: God have given him a second chance. This was all real, it must have been – and he had a second chance.

 

“Oh my god.” He said to himself, bursting into peals of laughter. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

 

“Mark, I don’t know what you think is okay but it sure isn’t you.” Jinyoung remarked, looking him up and down.

 

Shaking his head, he stood on quivering legs and smiled, “I was half-asleep. Sleepwalking almost. I’m just so relieved that what I saw... wasn’t real.”

 

Sceptical, Jinyoung crossed over and looked him in the eye.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Yes, I was just really in a bad state of mind since I wasn’t feeling well.” He said, acting sheepish. “I’m sorry if I did anything - I don’t quite remember. But you probably can’t take any of what I said as being real.”

 

“Well, then…” Jinyoung pondered for a moment. “Just go back to bed. We don’t want you coming to practice like this.”

 

“Can I come?” He asked enthusiastically. “I mean, um, just to watch. I don’t want to stay in the dorms alone.”

 

“Sure, but afterwards, you’re going to a doctor for a check-up to make sure that everything is okay. You were delirious.” He stated, picking his jacket up from where he left it on a chair. “Come on, get ready. We’ll wait. And Yugyeom, go downstairs to pay the taxi driver and tell him we don’t need a taxi anymore.”

 

Giddy with happiness, Mark let his weight rest on Jackson as the latter helped him to their room. It was all back to the good times. He had Jackson and the rest of Got7. It was back to being perfect, before he messed it all up.

 

So why was it so bittersweet?

 

He knew the answer. His little girl was somewhere out there, with her mother never coming home. His sweet Yueniang that he couldn’t bear to leave behind: he had abandoned her. Clutching Jackson, he wondered if he had really died and this was heaven. Because if so, it was definitely missing something. The point of dying meant he didn’t have to miss her. But now, it was tearing his heart to pieces.

 

He would just have to take on the bitterness and indulge in the sweetness he had been given. That was the only thing he could do. But as a lump began to form in his throat, he realised it would be much harder to swallow than he thought.

 

No. He could make this work. He _would_ make this work. This was his shot at happiness that he absolutely couldn’t ruin, no matter what.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by Jackson asking, “Do you want me to stay outside while you get changed?”

 

“Whatever you want.” He shrugged.

 

“Okay, I’ll stay here just in case but I won’t watch.” Jackson sat down on his bed and took out his phone. “To be honest, I wanted to ask you a question. Are you sure you’re okay? Is anything wrong?”

 

“You know what, Jackson?” Mark beamed happily at him.

 

“What?”

 

“For the first time in my life, I can say there isn’t.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg this feels like such a mess but now that I've all but covered Mark's immediate reactions to this, the next few chapters will be cleaner (from my pov anyways). Basically in the first two he's just freaking out XD don't worry about him after that. In chapter three onwards you will get to see his sassy side.


	3. That Could Have Gone Better

Wary, worried gazes followed his every move all throughout training that day. It didn’t bother Mark very much; he’d been desensitised to this sort of thing after being glared at for years. Instead, he sat humming chirpily to himself, swinging his legs gleefully like a child.

 

“I really don’t buy the crap from earlier.” Jinyoung whispered quickly to Jaebum as he cuddled him from behind.

  
“Aw, what, are you jealous?” He snickered. “He didn’t mean any of it, he has a fever. Look, Jackson and Bambam are taking good care of him now and we’re taking him to a doctor later.”

 

“That was more than just a temperature!” He hissed. “He was completely, utterly crazy. Jaebum, he was ready to _stab_ himself in the wrist!”

 

“Then we need to keep a close eye on him.” The taller man offered, but his voice wavered at the reminder. “So this doesn’t happen again.”

 

A tap to the shoulder made Jinyoung jump with fright, practically catapulting out of Jaebum’s arms. He turned to face Mark, who was beaming at him. But it didn’t feel very welcoming at all. The feverish man glanced between the two, still smiling.

 

“Can I cut in? I have a question.” Mark asked, wobbling slightly. He was still a bit woozy from all the shock, nausea and fatigue. And he knew he shouldn’t be interfering, but he couldn’t just throw aside the love he had for Jaebum. “I want to practice a song, Jaebum. Can I?”

 

Furrowing his brow, the leader replied almost immediately, “Go sit down. You’re ill and in no state to be doing practice. You shouldn’t even be here, so go and rest.”

 

“Fine.” He huffed as he sashayed back to his seat, the scarf he wore fluttering through the air like a cloud of butterflies.

 

The harsh white glare of the light above just about burned his eyes, and he moped where he sat, dejected. In an attempt to comfort him, Bambam offered him something to eat but Jackson told him to put it away. Dismissing him, Bambam went around handing an orange to each member before sitting back down.

 

“He had an upset stomach earlier.” Jackson chided. “We don’t want to aggravate it any further.”

 

Undeterred, the Thai pointed out with indignation, “But if he doesn’t have anything, he’ll get worse. He needs to eat _something_.”

 

“If somebody has an upset stomach, you give them plain porridge.” Mark cut in. He sounded almost bored. “You can add some vegetables like carrots. But don’t feed them too quickly after they’re ill. Additionally, don’t feed them whatever they had before they were ill, they will associate the food with being sick and won’t want it. Giving them dairy products is a bad idea. So are things like glutinous rice. Anything hard to digest should be avoided.”

 

“Woah, you sure know a lot.” Bambam gawped. “And you sure talk a lot more now, Mark-hyung.”

 

“He does.” Jackson agreed soundly. “It’s a miracle.”

 

“Do I?” He asked, but he most likely wasn’t interested in an answer. He was still watching Jinyoung and Jaebum being practically glued to one another.

 

Suddenly, he took off his cardigan and stuffed the red fabric into Bambam’s hands. Ignoring Bambam’s questioning look, he retrieved his phone and was about to use it when he found he had to enter a passcode. Now he stared at the mocking screen, slightly pissed.

 

“Mark? What’s wrong? Did you forget your code?” Jackson pressed, pausing at the other man’s perplexed look. “How’d you manage that?” He laughed.

 

“When I start to purposefully forget things, I’ll tell you the technique.” He rolled his eyes. “Right before I delete you from memory too.”

 

“Woah, no need to get so sassy.” He put his hands up and feigned hurt. “Just, how are you going to use it now?”

 

“I can use it. Where’s JB’s laptop?”

 

“In his bag.”

 

“Give it to me.”

 

Luckily, Jaebum didn’t notice that his things had been touched. He was too engrossed in dancing; sweat coating his body in a fine sheen and soaking through his white shirt. Uninterrupted in his work, Mark plugged the phone in and his fingers started flying across the keyboard. Less than five minutes later, he unplugged it and passed the computer back to Jackson.

 

“What did you do?” Bambam peered over. “Did you just _hack_ the phone?”

 

“No.” He said defensively, although that was exactly what he had done. “It’s a backup program I did for my phone in case I forgot the password.”

 

“Oh.” The smaller boy sounded. “It looked awful complicated though.”

 

“No need to worry your head over it.” He patted Bambam’s soft brown hair with one hand, scrolling through the phone with the other.

 

Out of curiosity, he went straight to the camera roll. Tears nearly welled up in his eyes, seeing himself alongside all his old friends and having fun. Then he found it. A picture of himself and his family. And although the boy had aged many years since his passing, Mark recognised him right away. Joey was there, sitting next to his parents. The photo was only from a few months ago.

 

“Jackson.” He grabbed his arm, his eyes wild and desperate. “Where is my family?”

 

“Woah, calm down.” The man reached out to wipe at his face. “Stop crying for a moment. Are you okay?”

 

“I want to see them.” He pleaded, his voice broken.

 

“They’re in Taiwan right now. Don’t worry, you’ll see them soon, okay?”

 

At the small commotion, Jaebum had put a halt to practice and everyone was crowding around Mark once again.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked in a sweet, concerned tone.

 

“Joey…” He sobbed, relief crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Is Joey alright? Are my parents alright?”

 

“Yes, they are.” He rubbed his back soothingly. “They’re perfectly fine, perfectly healthy. Don’t worry about them.”

 

After Mark had calmed down and they returned to practice, Jinyoung shot an ‘I-told-you-so’ look Jaebum’s way. His boyfriend only sighed deeply and nodded as he peeled the orange, a citrusy scent marking the air. Mark really did have to go for a check-up later, probably with his psychiatrist. His emotions were a mess.

 

Tiredly, Jaebum waved for the music to be turned off and began to wipe himself down with a towel. They’d just have to cut practice early and attend to Mark first. Mark, who was sitting there grinning like an idiot even though he was still crying a river. Scratch that, he was crying out the Pacific.

 

Well, Mark himself knew he should keep his reactions a bit quieter, especially when he was already under suspicion of being certifiable. But hearing about his family - it was just too much for him to know that they were safe and sound and still be able to clamp down his feelings.

 

“Come on, we’re going.” Jaebum said in between a mouthful of fruit. He picked his bag off the floor and was slinging it on when Mark called out to him.

 

“Wait! Before we go,” He said. “I really want to practice with you guys.” With a chuckle, he added, “That way, if you do slam me into a mental hospital, I probably won’t feel like killing you when I finally escape. Let’s get some happy memories, eh?”

 

Stunned into laughter, Jaebum said, “Let’s see what you can do sitting down there. I’ll give you a few minutes before we go, so why don’t you just practice one of our songs.”

 

“Okay, Captain.” He said, in such a sultry voice that the nickname made the blood rush to Jaebum’s cheeks. “How about Winter Rose?”

 

“I’ve literally never heard of that.” Youngjae chuckled. “Hyung, one of _our_ songs.”

 

“Um, then what?” He asked, casting aside his earlier choice. It had once been released as part of his solo album. “How about a different song, just to warm up? Like… _Tian Mimi_?”

 

“That’s a song with no rap.” Jackson poked at him, grinning. “What are you going to do with that sort of warm-up?”

 

“What else am I going to do with a song?” He rolled his eyes at the apparent idiocy. “Eat it? Sorry but there’s no chopsticks here. I guess I’m just going to have to sing it won’t I?”

 

“Sing?” They all chorused, breaking into raucous laughter.

 

“What?” He blustered, blushing scarlet. “Do you expect me to rap? What’s next? Will pigs learn to fly? Will Jackson’s brains finally grow in?”

 

“Mark, don’t take it too far.” Jackson warned, but at the stroppy look he got, he said, “Do it again. Sass me. Go ahead. But after that, you have to calm down.”

 

“Am I your dog?” He scoffed. “Please Jackson. You might want to loosen your collar a little before snapping at me.”

 

“I’m having a migraine.” Jinyoung collapsed into a chair. “He’s frying my nut. I’m done. I’m just surprised the stress got to _him_ first.”

 

“I just have one question.” Youngjae raised his hand tentatively.

 

Groaning, Jaebum rubbed his temples and asked reluctantly, “…What is it?”

 

“Can we keep him like this?”

 

It was impossible to tell whose orange hit him first.


	4. Just Don't Piss Me Off

It smelled. Of course, this was the thirty-first time Mark had complained about that, but he wasn’t about to apologise. He had a keen sense of smell, and the stench of the clinic was overwhelming him. It reeked of disinfectant and a thick cloud of sickness crouched just underneath, pervading his nostrils.

 

“As far as I can tell, he isn’t too ill. Just a mild fever and some nausea.” The doctor watched the boy warily. Mark had slapped him earlier when he tried to put a hand up his shirt to check his heartbeat. “So I would say this is just a flu which has been going around recently. However, you mentioned he’s been acting strange and went into a fit earlier, so I’d recommend taking him to see his psychiatrist.”

 

“I don’t want to.” Mark said pointedly. “And I won’t. What exactly would that do for me? I was just not feeling well.” He shot a glare Jackson’s way, angry that the other man had ratted him out. “Besides, I’m tired.”

 

Sighing, the doctor caved and suggested, “Get some rest. I’ll prescribe something for you. If you don’t get any better, you must come back for another check-up. I cannot force you to go and see your psychiatrist unless you’re putting yourself or someone else around you in danger, but I’d recommend it.” Good thing that he hadn’t been told about the knife incident. “And if you have medication for your mental conditions, I’d advise you to take it.”

 

“So is he okay?” Bambam asked, wide-eyed with worry.

 

“He’ll be just fine.” The doctor said warmly. “Keep an eye on him, but I’m sure he’ll be okay. From what I hear, it sounds like a panic attack, nothing too serious.”

 

“He did have a panic attack.” Jinyoung butted in. “But it was more than that! He was disoriented and - ” A sharp kick to the shin shut him up quickly, and he turned to glare at Mark. He opened his mouth to say something just as Jaebum wrapped an arm around him and promptly dragged him outside.

 

“Shh.” Desperately, the taller man tried to hush his boyfriend. “Jinyoung, if you make it seem worse than it is, Mark will get into a lot of trouble. So will the rest of us.”

 

“This is for his sake.” Jinyoung said adamantly. “He won’t get better if we don’t do this and get him the proper help.”

 

“And you think he’ll get better if we treat him like he’s crazy?” He searched his gaze. “Jinyoung, we stick together and we help _one another_. If you do this, he’ll be dragged off somewhere he doesn’t want to. We’re treating him like a child who can’t even make his own choices.”

 

Sneering, Jinyoung argued, “You expect somebody who already _is_ half-crazy to make good choices for himself? I’m worried about him, and if you care about him then you’ll think of his best interests.”

 

“That’s what I’m doing. He doesn’t want to go, so I won’t force him – and neither will you.”

 

“Oh really? Did you see what he was going to do to himself?” He demanded. “If we let this happen, let him stay in the house without treatment, and he hurts himself… His blood is on all our hands! Especially yours!” He jabbed a finger at Jaebum.

 

“Hello, subject in question here.”

 

The sly voice alarmed both of them, and they looked to see Mark in the doorway. He was raising an eyebrow, slender arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Hey, Mark.” Jaebum said nervously.

 

“Jaebum.” The redhead nodded to him with a smile, before addressing both of them. “So it’s okay to talk about me behind my back? I’m sorry if you weren’t aware, but I’m older than both of you. I don’t need anyone being my fill-in mom, and I’m perfectly capable of making my own choices. And _I’m_ crazy?” He chuckled. “Am I the one screeching at everyone here, Park Jinyoung? I’m not a grocery store item so I don’t need a label. Sorry you’re just pissed because you’re marked half off.”

 

“Take that back.” The taller boy growled. “I’m just trying to help you.”

 

“Whatever. Not that interested.” Surprisingly, Mark just waved it off. “All I wanted to say is: learn to respect me, as another human being. And if you don’t, well then, it’s a pity you’ll never understand what it’s really like to be treated like a crazy person.”

 

Shortly after, everyone else came out from the room and joined them. The atmosphere lightened slightly, and Jaebum rubbed Jinyoung’s shoulder reassuringly. The conversation died as they piled into the van, and silence hung over them for a few heavy minutes. Then Youngjae began speaking to Bambam and Yugyeom, and Jackson to Jaebum. Jinyoung was curled up in his boyfriend’s lap, wordless. He just wanted to relax.

 

Glancing over, he saw Mark sitting looking out of the window. There was an unspeakable loneliness on his face. He looked so lost, so abandoned; it broke Jinyoung’s heart. It was like a child left behind in the middle of a tempest. Not knowing what to do, who to cry out for, whether to pray for hope or finally give up.

 

“Hey.” He called softly, touching his arm.

 

Mark jumped, whipping round to stare at him. Then he sighed and pulled his hood up, ready to turn his back on Jinyoung again.

 

“Wait.” Jinyoung said, and Mark graced him with another few moments.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “That I called you names. I didn’t take into account how you felt at all. It was only because I was worried sick that you could get hurt.”

 

“It’s fine.” The other boy closed his eyes. Ah, he was tired, and the movement of the van was making him feel sick.

 

Finally, he forced himself to sit up and stumbled to his feet, gripping to the back of the seat for dear life. Quite ungracefully, he lurched across the aisle and promptly stuffed himself between Jaebum and Jackson, nearly causing the leader and his boyfriend to tumble right out of their seat.

 

“Hey!” Jinyoung snapped, but he stopped when he saw how ashen Mark’s complexion was. He choose instead to move to another seat with Jaebum.

 

“Jackson.” Mark nudged the man quietly, as if sapped of his strength.

 

“I told you to take it easy.” The Hong Kong native reminded him, looking up from his phone. “Then there you go like a whirlwind! It’s amazing to watch you go, but look how tired you are now. When we get back, please go straight to bed.” He was serious for once, his big eyes full of nothing but concern.

 

“I will.” He nuzzled his neck, and Bambam whined in exasperation.

 

“Mark-hyung!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes a tiny bit.

 

“What?” The singer flicked a cool gaze over his shoulder, linking arms with the man who so resembled – and practically was the same as – his husband.

 

“You…” The younger boy lowered his eyes and mumbled. “You’re too close to Jackson.”

 

“Why should you care?” He teased, pressing a sensual kiss to Jackson’s neck.

 

Nearly instantaneously, he felt the hard ground connect with his backside, head slamming back painfully against the seat. Everything was spinning, and his stomach felt like it had been dragged along a roller coaster ride by a barbed wire string.

 

“Mark, I’m so sorry!” Jackson rushed over to check if he was okay, despite being the one who’d pushed him away (with a bit too much force, Mark might add).

 

Through the throbbing pain, the smaller boy gritted, “I’m. Okay. Get away from me.”

 

The past began to flash through his mind, but he tried to shove it aside. He couldn’t afford another attack like this or Jinyoung might really report him. Still, he couldn’t rid from his mind the fighting, the screaming, the crying.

 

_A picture frame hit the wall, shattering. With a cry, he scrambled over and scrabbled at the shards of glass, trying to salvage the picture. Two people smiled cruelly at him from the past, pinned down and motionless, unable to do anything. Just like him. Ignoring how the bright crimson welled up in harsh streaks all over his fragile hands, he clutched at the piece of memory._

 

_Watching him, Jackson said nothing. He stood there where he had ripped the wedding photo from the wall, with not a single word to offer as Mark crumbled to pieces in front of him. He was drowning on tears, breath coming short and painful as he hugged the item close to his chest, feeling dampness soaking through his shirt where the sharpness had cut him. Immense pain. Darkness engulfed him as he reached out, fingers outstretched. He didn’t know what he was reaching out for, but when he felt nothing his heart plummeted. Jackson wouldn’t save him. Nobody would._

 

_Just moments earlier, he’d flown shrieking at Jackson. Out of fear and panic, Jackson pushed him away in the scuffle and Mark was thrown back against the bedside table. He didn’t even notice the blood trickling down his neck – he was transfixed by the defeated look in Jackson’s eyes now. The look of someone who had no more fight, no more soul, no more life left in them. It had all been beaten out of him._

 

_“I’m so sorry.” The boy said in his dream, alone in the darkness. He was crying. He never wanted this, any of it. He felt like he trapped in his own body, like he was possessed. He could only watch all of this happen and was never strong enough to stop it. Of course Jackson wouldn’t save him, he needed saving himself._

 

_“Sorry isn’t even enough.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading into more past drama o.0 I want to create a sense of duality between the two stories so they link to each other ^^ this Mark, of course, realised the switch almost right away so he won't have that as a source of conflict. So drama will come from different angles and the story will progress rather differently, especially with the change in personalities :3


	5. I'm Not Drunk But It Would Help if I Was

Everyone was frozen. Mark was like a bomb, ready to detonate upon the slightest disturbance. He shook where he was curled up into a ball on the floor, trembling like a lone, wilted flower in the breeze.

 

“Apologise!” Jinyoung hissed over his head, presumably to the perpetrator.

 

 At Jackson’s hands flailing uselessly for something to do, and his gaping mouth, Jinyoung heaved a harsh sigh and slid out from his chair to join Mark on the floor. Gently, he tugged at Mark to try and get him to relax, but it didn’t work.

 

Thin, watery sobs shook from the boy like rain pounding an umbrella, the hot tears sliding down his face forlornly. His heart was on fire. He felt like he’d been poisoned, poisoned by his love for Jackson.

 

He didn’t know when they arrived back at the dorms. Obviously he must have passed out and then fallen asleep a while later, since when he woke up, he was in bed and it was the middle of the night. There were no stars above him but spots of light flitted across his eyes as he sat up. Stupidly, he smiled at them, making a wish on the flurry of snow as it drifted around his vision.

 

“Mark?” A soft voice emitted from the shadows, and he turned to see the faint outlines of Jackson.

 

“Why are you still awake?” He asked groggily, running a hand through his hair. “You’ll be tired for practice tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

 

“I wanted to say sorry for pushing you earlier.” The other man said awkwardly. “It’s not that late.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not that late.” Mark said sarcastically as he checked his phone. “It’s only two in the morning. And don’t worry about that, it wasn’t really you pushing me earlier that made me upset.”

 

Ignoring his words, Jackson pressed, “But I’m sorry. I know it was what hurt you, if I hadn’t pushed you it wouldn’t have been that way – you don’t have to pretend. I feel, and I am, responsible.”

 

“Jackson Wang, you never know when to give up.” He huffed, staring at the black void of the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It’s because I didn’t want Bambam to misunderstand and be sad over it. I didn’t want him to be down, and then hold you at fault. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.” He said, feeling the need to explain himself.

 

“I’m not even sure if I did.” Mark mumbled to himself, soft enough that Jackson didn’t hear. Louder, he asked, “Why? Bambam’s always been jealous. What’s new?”

 

“He has a right to be.” Jackson said pointedly. “I’m dating him, after all.”

 

A sharp pang shot right through Mark’s heart, and he laughed wanly. Was everything going to repeat itself? He steals Jackson from Bambam, he screws up, GOT7 fails and then they hate him. Oh and it doesn’t stop there, he steals Jaebum from Jinyoung too. Simply perfect, he has a chance to relive his biggest regrets.

 

“Last long.” He said, but the words were hollow. There was a long silence during which neither seemed to move.

 

“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Jackson asked him suddenly. “You need rest. I’ll go to sleep as well.”

 

“Nah, I’ve slept for so long that I’m not so tired anymore.” He stared through the gap of the curtains that shrouded the window. “I’m not tired at all, but I feel so heavy. Is that normal?”

 

No reply came. Pausing, he glanced to Jackson’s bed and saw he must have fallen asleep. Quietly, he lay back down in bed, eyes wide open. He watched Jackson, memorising all his details again, information he once had but long since forgot. At some point, he drifted off. The last thing he saw before Morpheus took him away was Jackson.

 

In the morning, he felt that nasty, slimy feeling again. It writhed over his temples and gut and squeezed, kindly letting him know that the hell of morning sickness was nowhere near over. Shakily, he stood and gritted his teeth with a jaw of iron. He briskly walked to the toilet, slammed the door and slid the lock home with quivering fingers. Crouching over the toilet bowl, he shivered. One of his greatest fears was throwing up, but he had awful morning sickness when pregnant. At first he thought he didn't mind as long as he was having Jackson’s child, but now he wasn’t so sure.

 

However, she was now the only thing he had left of his whole world. And he was sure that everything he knew of the past was real, Caiyun was proof of that. He refused to believe that all his pain and suffering was for naught, that it was just a distant dream.

 

As tears rolled down his cheeks, he replaced thoughts of ‘ _I don’t want to do this’_ with ‘ _just get it over with’_. After ten horrible minutes, he wiped his mouth and tried to calm down so his gag reflex would stop kicking in. He felt disgusting on every level, from the clench of his emptied stomach to the acrid taste burning at his throat. He flushed the toilet, brushed his teeth and took a deep breath before opening the door to Jaebum’s concerned face.

 

“Were you feeling ill?” He asked, touching Mark’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah.” He sniffled, the truth creeping past his lips. Jaebum had some kind of power over him that he couldn’t place.

 

“This could be serious. You’ve been really sick recently.” The taller man chewed on his lower lip. “We should call a doctor.”

 

“Wait!” Mark stopped him. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

 

“You’re not fine.”

 

With a sigh, Mark realised that this wasn’t something he could go on hiding unless he went and had an abortion, which he wasn’t planning to do. They’d find out sooner or later; and it was better to tell them himself and get some support for his situation.

 

“Can you call everyone into the living room for me?”

 

Sitting on a chair he pulled out from the dinner table, he surveyed the members who were sitting on the couch facing him. It was almost a miracle to see them all together again next to each other, gathered out of worry for his sake. In fact, it was surreal.

 

“So,” He began, and they perked at the single word, listening avidly. “I have something to tell you all.”

 

“What is it?” Youngjae burst out, unable to contain his curiosity.

 

“If you listened, I could tell you. That will be fifty thousand won for making me waste my breath and time.”

 

“Hyung, I don’t have that amount of money!” He laughed, thinking Mark was joking.

 

“You can save up.” The man said bluntly, moving swiftly on. “Anyways, so don’t hate me or anything for this. It’s not something I can help, and it was under circumstances I can’t explain.”

 

At this point, nobody dared to speak lest they suffer the same fate as Youngjae – who was now a bit doubtful towards his previous understanding that it was merely jest, simply because Mark was so straight-faced in his delivery.

 

“No stupid questions? Okay then.” He said waspishly, but it was just to hide how his hands were trembling. He exhaled deeply.

 

“One moment.” Jackson interrupted confidently, but he shrunk under Mark’s gaze. It must have come off as sharp, though in reality he was simply afraid. “Um… Is this about your health?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then… this might sound stupid, but promise me… that it’s nothing bad.” He fiddled with the cap he held in his hands.

 

“It depends what you define as bad.” Mark said, and the vague answer made Jackson frown. “Oh, stop that. I can hear the cogs turning in your head and they’re too slow for my liking.”

 

“None of us want to see you hurt, hyung.” Yugyeom said faintly. “Please, be okay.”

 

“You know, I’ll be fine for now.” Mark waved them off. “I can tell you that much. But later… things might get difficult. I’ll leave instructions for you in case anything happens.”

 

“What do you mean?” Jaebum grabbed his hand, panic in his voice.

 

Mark bit his lip, wrenching his hand from Jaebum’s grasp and rubbing it protectively. He could feel the burn of their stares, the tears ready to form in their eyes. Huh… more like insults getting ready to gather in their throats. Never mind, now that he made up his mind, he would just have to bite the bullet. Eyes flickering, fists clenching and unclenching, he tried to speak. His tongue fluttered in his mouth like a dead leaf. There were no words for a moment. He had no strength left.

 

Then, he thought of Caiyun. She needed help if she was to survive with him. Rallying against his fears, he patted his stomach gently and it was like holding her hand. A surge of courage swept through him, pushing the words up and out of him.

 

“I’m pregnant.”


	6. Punch Me. It Would Hurt Less.

Got7 may as well have been a choir, judging by how they chorused ‘what’ in a deafening unison. It was comical how their mouths flew open in shock, forming a line of perfect O’s – almost enough to make Mark laugh. Almost. Instead, he closed his eyes, trying to soften the oncoming barrage of questions.

 

“Is this a joke?”

 

“It’s as much of the joke as the money you owe me, Youngjae.”

 

That shut the younger boy up as he pondered the statement, his face screwed up in displeasure.

 

“How long have you known about this?” Jinyoung asked, his temper flaring over Mark’s irresponsibility. “Yah, don’t you understand how big of a problem this is?”

 

“Of course I do!” Mark yelled tearfully, his emotionless façade cracking. “You think I don’t know? You think I’m not going to suffer for this, that I’m going to be laughing the whole way through this while you guys take the fall? Obviously not because I’m the one who messed up! The one who’s going to be six feet deep is me!”

 

Silence settled heavily over the group. Mark could sense the rage boiling in his friends, the anger and hurt. It was only understandable – although he was the one who would suffer the most, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t either.

 

“Mark.” Jaebum’s steady voice broke the hush. “Do you know who the father is?”

 

Yeah, and daddy was sitting right there across from him looking like somebody just unscrewed the top of his head, put his brain in a blender and then poured the gloop back into his thick skull. Well, he couldn’t be blamed, but what was Mark to do? Lying to them was the only option. He couldn’t ruin what Bambam and Jackson had. This was a fresh start, a fresh start for him not to repeat those shitty mistakes from last time. He already broke them up once, he couldn’t do it again; and he’d proven long ago he wasn’t worthy of Jackson anyways.

 

“I don’t know.” He murmured, the words like poison.

 

“What?”

 

“I SAID I DON’T KNOW!” Mark bawled, his throat sore from the shriek.

 

Jinyoung bit his lip, unsure of what to do or say. This was a huge scandal which could quite possibly bury Got7 for a long, long time. In fact, Mark could be severely punished by the company for this breach of contract.

 

“You’re going to have to get rid of it.” He concluded, almost clinical in administering the cold truth. “There’s no other way. We can get rid of it now and nobody will know.”

 

“Over my dead body.” The pregnant man hissed, his hands on his stomach protectively.

 

“Then what do you expect us to do?” Bambam pleaded, close to tears himself. “Hyung, you can’t do this to all of us - including yourself.”

 

“Whatever. You all need to have a good, long think about this.” He stood up, his legs unsteady. “Arguing now won’t come to anything, we can talk about this after practice.”

 

“You can’t do practice like this.” Jackson warned, but was sent a strong warning glare and a swift middle finger. “And besides, I don’t think anyone wants to practice with _you_.”

 

“I agree.” Jaebum said. “You’re staying here.”

 

Two hours later, Mark was still lying on the couch where they left him. Of course he’d wanted to be let out, but the combined force of his friends held him back and they managed to fight him off long enough to leave and lock him in. This was the pits – he was now trapped and alone with himself, quite possibly the person he hated the most.

 

After a while of just staying there unmoving, he got up and searched the house for a spare key, turning it completely upside down. A stroke of luck granted him the shiny object twinkling from the depths of the pocket on one of Jackson’s coats, so he had a chance now at least. Quietly, he rummaged until he found a wad of cash in Jackson’s spare wallet – this wasn’t hard since he coincidentally kept it in the same sort of place as the other Jackson did – and stuffed it into his own pocket before setting off.

 

Stepping out of the taxi, he inhaled the crisp air and briskly walked into the building. Within a few moments he was outside the practice room, watching the band members going over a new choreography they were starting to put together. Hesitant to go inside just yet, he paced back and forth in the hall.

 

They wanted him to get rid of his baby. They thought he was just loose trash. They hated him. Who in their right mind would willingly walk into a room with those people? Clearly Mark wasn’t in his right mind. Anyways, he’d lost it somewhere long ago.

 

Inhaling sharply, he gripped the handle like it was a knife and turned it until the door clicked open. All eyes were on him. Despite the upbeat music, the atmosphere was stifling.

 

“Hey.” He called, struggling to slip on his mask of sass and wit. “Came to see how crap you all are, and teach you a good few lessons.”

 

No response.

 

“Yeah, let’s go to our performances and stand there like statues the whole time. The crowd’s going to go _wild_. Come on Jackson, let’s practice not blinking together. You’re already doing great.”

 

“Get out.” Jackson seethed, turning away from him. The words struck Mark like he’d been slapped across the face. “Can’t you tell? Nobody wants you here!”

 

“I’m not going to make it worse by insisting that isn’t true. I know you don’t want me here,” He gulped, keeping the grin on his face. “I just don’t care. I can do what I want. If you guys are talented enough, then this sort of thing doesn’t matter right? You can survive a scandal for the life of my daughter.”

 

“You have some…” Jaebum scowled, clenching his fist. “You’re disgusting.”

 

“Come again?”

 

“I said you’re disgusting!” He bellowed, nearly deafening the redhead. “You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself. You go out, sleep around, get pregnant – how do you think we feel? Oh, you probably know, only you don’t give a single shit. That thing in there is trash like you. Getting rid of it is not an issue. It’s not an abortion, don’t worry – it’s pest control.”

 

_Oh. They really were angry._

 

Everything was blurry, a smear of neon colours. All the sounds were so far away, so far away… he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to run but could feel the hot tears forming in his eyes. Jaebum, who had been his lifeline all these years, thought he was disgusting. Now he truly had nothing.

 

In the end, he didn’t have a choice on whether to run. His knees buckled and he crashed to the floor, gasping for air. The walls were writhing like a million snakes, and when he closed his eyes, the darkness twisted wildly as well. Nauseated, he began to murmur to himself, even as it took immense willpower for the incoherent numbness to slip past his lips.

 

Immediately, the other members rushed to his side. Through his half-lidded eyes, he saw Jaebum first, cradling his head and stroking his hair.

 

“Shh, Mark, it’s okay.” He said, guilt thick on his voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just pissed, alright? I didn’t mean it. Please, please stop crying.”

 

With jerking hands, Mark reached up to touch Jaebum’s face as he felt his chest constrict. The edges of his vision were being eaten up by the black, framing Jaebum’s worried expression hanging above him.

 

“I forgive you.”

 

_“This is wrong.” Jaebum insisted, just before Mark pressed another kiss to his lips._

 

_They broke apart, staring at each other for a moment. Then, giddy off something they didn't understand, they both laughed. With a content sigh, Mark leaned into the taller man’s embrace and rested his head on his chest. He could hear his heart beating._

 

_“If it’s wrong, why does it feel so right?” He countered, staring at the green glass of the bottle he held in his hand. The cold wind whipped at them, but the warmth of the alcohol kept a flame burning just below his skin._

 

_“Mark,” The ex-leader took his arm gently. “Look at you. Where did this come from?”_

 

_He cast a glance at the jagged gash severing deep into his flesh. Blood still trickled thinly from the considerable wound. Reddened flesh circled the gaping cut, and it made Jaebum wince to look at it._

 

_“I don’t remember.” Mark said plainly._

 

 _He didn’t. Jackson was in the house at the time, so he probably knew, but it was unwise to approach him. Best to leave him scuttling out of Mark’s way as long as he felt safe. Best to let him go out and find love with someone else. Ha. He sounded like he actually knew what_ was _best for Jackson._

 

_“If I were Jackson, I’d never ever let you get hurt like this.” The promise made Mark’s heart flutter. “I’d never let you go out with something like this. Look! It could get infected! Why didn’t you treat it before coming out here for a drink with me?”_

 

_“Because,” He smiled. “I knew you’d do it for me.” A pause. “You’re lucky you aren’t Jackson.”_

 

 _“Mark, look at me.” Jaebum forced him to sit up, gazing deep into his dark brown eyes. “I love you. You can slap me, punch me, break a glass over my head, stab me – I don’t_ care. _I know it’s not you. I’ve seen you when you think nobody’s looking. You look so sad. And in all your dreams, you’re always apologising.” He gathered Mark into his arms as the other man began to sob, careful of his arm. “You don’t have to say sorry anymore, not when you’re with me. There’s nothing to be sorry for. All these years, you’ve been hurting and crying for help and nobody has listened. For that, I’m the one who’s sorry.”_

 

_“You big, soft idiot.” Mark bawled into his shirt. “Why are you saying these things to me? You’re just asking to get hurt…”_

 

_“If it’s by you, I wouldn’t mind.” Jaebum hummed. “That’s what love is.”_

 

The image was suddenly engulfed in flames, curling and blackening to reveal an old film behind it. Shakily, it played the same frames on loop. Again, and again, and again. Screaming, Mark tore through the obsidian to try and destroy it, turn it off, get it away, but nothing worked.

 

Standing tall over him was Jaebum, his eyes dark like they were carved from a starless sky. His mouth was pulled into a heavy frown, spite dripping from his features.

 

“You’re disgusting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha I'm always knee-deep in drama and angst... I've been getting quite a few complaints about it and also the lack of Markson >


	7. Is there a Pill I can Take to Make It All Better

The ripples broke the glassy surface of the tea he held in a shaking hand. By his side, the members crowded him worriedly. A hint of dissent still hung in the air like the final note of a song, but they made no comment on it. Instead, comforting hands would rub his back and quiet words would float emptily through his head.

 

“What should we do?” Bambam whispered to Jackson, enveloped in his embrace to the side.

  
“We’ll have to find a way to convince him… Mooks, there’s no way. I wish there was but there really isn’t.” He sighed. “I wonder if he understands that. Even if you want something with all your heart, that doesn’t make it come true. The world isn’t that kind.”

 

“I feel bad for him.” The Thai boy cast a glance downwards. “And I’m worried.”

 

“We all are, babe.” The black-haired man pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “We all are. I’ll ask him to come for a coffee with me, and I’ll try to talk some sense into him about this.”

 

Getting irritated now by the cooing, Mark put his cup down on the floor. He didn’t want people seeing his weak side, and he hated this sort of attention. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to electric piano they had set out earlier and sat back down.

 

“Hyung!” Youngjae called almost exasperatedly. “Come back here and rest. You don’t even know how to play that.”

 

Ignoring him, Mark muttered in Mandarin, “Yes, I do, actually. Better than you.”

Placing his fingers onto the cold, smooth plastic, he let out a sigh and pressed the keys softly at first. A melodious, crisp tune quickly proved Youngjae wrong as Mark quickened the pace and fervour of the song.

 

“When did you learn that?” He gaped in amazement.

 

“A long time ago.” The other man replied as he finished the intro with finesse.

 

“That’s too many surprises for one day.” Jaebum joked. “Don’t tell me you have something else up your sl - ”

 

Then, Mark opened his mouth and sang. His voice was delicate, soft, unlike how they’d ever heard him. It flitted from note to note gracefully, like a butterfly travelling between flowers, perfect as a songbird.

 

Everyone’s mouths hung open in shock. Absorbing this, Jackson put a hand over his mouth and listened quietly to the beauty of it. Mark’s voice was hypnotic, addictive almost – because he never wanted this song to end even when it had just begun.

 

“ _The kiss marks that are agonizing to recall are the roots of the tree_.” The slight boy sang in a duet with the instrument, and suddenly he looked almost like a fairy. Unreal.

 

“What’s going on…?” Yugyeom said, his eyes half glazed. “I didn’t know Mark hyung’s Chinese was this good either.”

 

“Shh!” Everyone hushed him quickly and Mark cracked a slight smile at that as he continued.  
  
“ _I am the only one left in the frigid night, waiting for dawn. The most poisonous hatred in this world is having the luck to encounter one another but not being fated to stay together. It's a pity that you have never been compassionate about my stupidity._

_"The youth of overgrowing weeds actually passes smoothly and steadily, contrary to expectations._ _What keeps me company in your stead are the annual rings of the tree."_

Deep in the night, he remembered seeing Jackson’s silhouette by the window, gazing out into the city. He knew then, he knew it would all end one day. It was their wedding night, but he couldn’t erase Bambam’s tear-stained face from his mind. Rolling over, he let the bitter tears roll hotly over his nose to wet his pillow. If only they’d never met instead, then he wouldn’t have to let go one day.

 

_“Counting annual ring after annual ring, I earnestly seal away the matters of my heart._ _Like these rings, numerous and densely packed is my self-respect.”_

 

Clutching the gold chain in his sweaty hand, he stood in the humid pawn shop with shaky will. All around him, wherever he went, he could feel the angry stares of strangers but it didn’t matter to him. Someone had pushed him earlier, and his scraped palms stung terribly, but it was at the back of his mind.

 

Mark’s stomach had plummeted upon hearing the price. Wasn’t it more? Shouldn't it have been more? They barely had money for food, and if they missed rent one more time, they would be thrown out. All the milk he’d produced was nothing more than water, and Yueniang was hungry. She never stopped wailing because her stomach was so empty it hurt. When he looked at her and saw her frail frame, saw how skinny she had become, he broke down into tears and sat there holding her for hours. He had no choice but to sell the last thing of worth that he had.

 

How could it have been worth that much? The storeowner refused anything else, and warned he wouldn’t get anything better. When he put it on the counter, it took all his willpower to let go of the object. As his fingers uncurled, he felt himself leaving the last piece of his mother behind. Her watery spirit called for him not to abandon her in the dull whine of the ceiling fan above.

 

“I’m sorry”, was all he could say to the woman who had once been his everything.

 

And now, he truly had nothing.

 

_“Revising separation after separation, I admit that I'd once fantasized about having something eternal._ _It's a pity that there has never been someone to act out this script with me.”_

 

He’d promised from the start that Jackson would be the only one for him, and now they couldn’t look each other in the eye. When he kissed his husband, he tasted only someone else. Unable to do it, he would pull away in tears and lie on the bed crying into the back of his hand. No matter what he did, the smell of Bambam’s cologne permeated the back of his throat and it made him want to throw up.

 

Without courage, Jackson would flinch and back away, afraid. Devising a way to run in case Mark became violent. Almost every time, he was right in his instincts. Jackson had begun to fear consequence less, and would run to Bambam’s side for respite. It was better than staying there. Now that he had nothing, he also had nothing to lose.

 

Alone, alone in the world, Mark would drag himself from the bed to go and hug his baby. When he held her, she would stop crying and he would stroke her hair with all the love someone as twisted as him had to offer. She had eyes like gems, and she would tell him everything he needed to hear without ever saying a single word.

 

“It will be okay, Mama. One day it will be okay.”

 

He always knew it wasn’t true, but it was a nice thought.

 

With a slight groan, he brought the song to an end, his head pounding. There was a quiet. Youngjae began to clap, and the others joined in.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us you could sing like that?” Jackson grinned, mussing his hair familiarly.

 

“Um… I was just… shy.” He bowed his head, blushing over the compliment.

 

Talking animatedly, Jackson helped him from the seat and to his unsteady feet. Mark didn’t hear any of it, he just watched Jackson’s eyes on him with the same glimmer they had once had. He knew if he looked too long, he would get lost in those dark brown orbs but he couldn’t tear himself away.

 

“Wait.” Yugyeom perked, looking them up and down. “Mark hyung! You shrunk!”

 

“Don’t be stupid.” He scoffed, cheeks still red. His hand felt like it was on fire where Jackson held it.

 

“You and Jackson hyung were almost the same height but Jackson hyung was a bit shorter.” He reasoned. “And now you’re definitely shorter than him!”

 

“Shut up, beanpole.” He hid his face in his hands as Jackson ushered him to stand next to Bambam, laughing.

 

“It’s true!” The taller boy gasped, measuring the two using his hands. “He’s even shorter than Bambam.”

 

“Woah.” Jinyoung circled the two back-to-back members, brandishing a measuring tape he just dug out from a pile of things in the corner. Efficiently, he pulled it out and took down both their heights. “This is unbelievable!”

 

“What?” Bambam asked.

 

“I noticed there was something different but oh my god. Mark, you’re 168cm tall. You shrunk seven centimeters!”

 

“I know I’m short! Stop rubbing it in my face.” He smacked the tape away and pinched Jinyoung, who shouted in pain.

 

“Ow! What the hell?”

 

Embarrassed, Mark turned away from him huffily. A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he turned to see Jackson smiling at him.

 

“Is that how you play now?” He teased. “Don’t worry, I know you didn’t mean it like that, but we’re not used to it.”

 

“Aren’t you still angry at me?” Mark rolled his eyes.

 

“I was… I kind of still am. But seeing you faint like that… I think it made us all remember how important you are. And also that you need our help. You’re not exactly in good shape right now.” He pointed out.

“Good for you. Do you want a sticker for that?” The petite boy was trying to look everywhere but at Jackson.

 

With a gentle touch, the other man cupped his cheek and turned his head to face him.

 

“No,” He smiled. “But I do want to go for coffee with you.”

 

_Oh god, please don’t go. Don’t actually agree to it. Remember what you said about leaving him alone! Don’t you dare do it –_

 

“Sure.”

 

_Damn it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Mark is singing, I just chose it on a whim XD In case anybody wants to listen, this is it! It's called Annual Ring by Zhang Bichen. It's quite a beautiful song ;-; sadly, a lot of the connotations and emotions are lost in translation.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGhvc6v1ZAQ


	8. In My Humble Opinion

 

This was a mistake. There were no ifs and buts about it. Mark had realised this around the point when Bambam’s lip turned and the boy pivoted on his heel, swiftly leaving the practice room. Nobody else had noticed right away, but Mark was almost hyper-aware of the other boy’s movements when it came to Jackson.

 

Now as they sat facing each other awkwardly in the café, he had no words to start a conversation. He was too embroiled in thinking about Bambam and whether the other was upset. This Bambam seemed kind and sweet. It would be such a shame if anything happened to hurt him, or worse, make him into the monster Mark knew.

 

“Hello? Have you decided on a drink yet?”

 

Jackson’s voice snapped him out of his reverie and he blinked for a moment. The ceiling fan overhead swung in circles lazily, creating a dull buzz. In front of him was the menu, which he was supposed to be reading.

 

“Yeah.” He scanned it quickly. “I’ve changed my mind on a coffee. I’d like berry iced tea.”

 

“Anything else?” Jackson asked as he waved for the waitress to come over.

 

“Hmm. A slice of sweet potato cake, please.” He decided, sliding the glossy paper across the table.

 

The waitress came clutching her notepad and pen and asked, “Can I help you?”  


“Yes, thank you.” The handsome man flashed a smile at her. “The usual for me, and a berry iced tea with sweet potato cake for my friend here. That’s all.”

 

She nodded, jotting it down before jogging off to her next table, leaving the two to each other. A moment passed of Mark just fiddling with his fork disinterestedly as Jackson tapped out a rhythm on the table.

 

“So,” The younger man broke the silence. “Do you really not know anything about who the father is?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He sighed heavily.

 

“Then you do know. Don’t worry, you can tell me.”

 

Mark looked at his puppy dog eyes full of worry and immediately averted his gaze.

 

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry but I really can’t.”

 

“Mark.” He whined. “I want to help you. I’m not angry anymore, I just want to help you somehow.”

 

“I won’t tell you his name.” The redhead asserted. “Let’s call him Howard.”

 

Jackson snorted, “You must really hate him. That’s the ugliest name you know.”

 

“Continuing from that rude interruption. I’ve been with Howard for a long time. Only, it just hasn’t worked out. Our relationship fell apart and it’s all my fault. I hurt him a lot. Therefore if you’re going to ask; no, he’s not available to help.”

 

Absorbing this, Jackson asked, “Then why keep the baby if it’s his? You don’t even like each other. You don’t have a responsibility to carry it to term if you don’t feel ready or don’t want to.”

 

“That’s the thing. I… I still love him, I think.” Mark admitted, nodding to the waitress as she set their food and drinks on the table. “I want to keep this little piece of him with me.”

 

Jackson’s face clouded with jealousy for a moment, but he hid it quickly.

 

“But Mark, is it worth it? Is _he_ worth it? It’s going to put you and the rest of us through a lot of pain. It’s your decision but I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

 

“Slow down.” The smaller boy waved him off before taking a sip of his tea. “To respond to your questions and statements in order: yes, definitely yes, I know that and lastly, I’m prepared. I’ve been through a lot worse. I can handle this.”

 

“Well, if you’re going to keep it then we’ll have to get somebody to step up and claim that it’s theirs.” He pondered. “Otherwise we’d be in big trouble and it would turn into a scandal. If we can get someone to say that they’re in a long-term relationship with you and that it’s their child, then we could possibly go public. In which case, you don’t have to hide it. Which means you won’t have to get rid of it.”

 

“Which idiot would do that?” Mark sneered. As the rapper opened his mouth to say something, he cut him off. “Don’t even think about it. What about Bambam?”

 

“That’s true… I was thinking of Shownu-hyung as well but he has Kihyun-hyung to worry about.” Jackson chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “I could talk to Bambam about this.”

 

“You will do no such thing, do you hear me?” He furrowed his brow, shooting Jackson a glare as if fired from a rifle.

 

“Then… what can we do?” The younger man said in a low voice, muted. “Mark, you have to think about this. Salvaging something from your past isn’t worth killing your future over. Especially for a slob.”

 

“Well,” Mark chewed his lip, the confession burning on the tip of his tongue. “I’ll let you in on a secret. There’s a possibility it’s not Howard’s.”

 

“What?” He spluttered round a mouthful of cake he just pilfered.

 

“Things got so bleak… I began just to live in shadows. But one man showed me the light, Jackson. And he kept me in it so I wouldn’t slip away into darkness again.” A nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. “He always patched me up when I got cut down. He used to tell me, ‘You are my happiest hello and my most painful goodbye’. He never wanted to let me go.”

 

“And what was _his_ name? Dick?” Jackson asked sarcastically, but there was a vague vehemence to it. “Or maybe Jesus?” He poked fun at the Christian.

 

“No,” Mark thought for a while, brushing it off. “But let’s call him Jesus then.”

 

“Isn’t that just a tad sacrilegious?”

 

“I’m Buddhist.”

 

“You’re – “ Befuddled, Jackson cocked his head to the side. Unable to discern if it was a joke, a change of faith or even perhaps just another anomaly caused by whatever changed the other’s behavior, he dismissed it. “I wasn’t prepared for quite so much drama. And why don’t you ask Jesus for help?”

 

“Around me, you have to be prepared for it to rain cows. I’m a freak and there’s plenty to give you a heart attack over, so get used to it.” He countered. “As for Jesus, he’s married.”

 

This time Jackson nearly choked on his second forkful of cake.

 

“ _Married?_ Mark, have you lost your mind?”

“Do you still need to ask that?” He heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

 

“You know, you really have to decide.” Jackson said quietly. “Who are you really keeping this baby for? Who do you really love? Because if you can’t tell me the answer to that, then what does Caiyun mean to you in the end?”

 

“I’ll sort it out.” He murmured. “I’ll sort it out.”

 

“No, you won’t, because you can’t! That guy isn’t going to help you. He’s not Jesus, he’s not God.”

 

Ugh, he hated it when Jackson was right in his preaching. Centipedes of fear writhed on his body, their sticky multitude of legs making a shiver run down his spine. If he chose Caiyun, he left himself with another impossible decision. Stay and ruin GOT7 again or... leave. Simply thinking about it caved his heart.

 

Under most circumstances, he would have had no problem with thinking about an abortion. He had had one before, when GOT7 were still together, in order to salvage the band. It was simply a growing ball of cells, and if he had had that potential baby then, it would have ended up being unwanted and the reason why he had to leave GOT7. He wouldn’t subject it to the bitterness of himself and the hatred of the fans.

 

A year from then, he had done the unthinkable and left GOT7 anyways. Simply because he destroyed it.

 

He wonders now what life would have been like if he had known, what choices he would have made. Staring at the chilled tea in front of him, he watches where it has captured the sun on its glassy curve. What made Caiyun different?

 

He had begun to hope that becoming pregnant with her would change Jackson’s mind, and that he himself could heal. They could have a new beginning. However, it became increasingly clear that this wasn’t going to be the case. A combination of ruthless hormones, loneliness and sleepless nights spent rotting in guilt simply plunged him back into depression.

 

He met with Jaebum less frequently, and shut the door on the only person who cared about him anymore besides his daughter. She held his hand so sweetly, so lovingly – perhaps that was what he craved from Caiyun too. He had become addicted to that unconditional, innocent love, that love which he had lost too soon when his parents passed away; that love that had quickly spoiled and festered between him and Jackson; the love for Jaebum which was held just in front of him like water in front of a man in the desert, then quickly jerked away. A mirage.

 

Quite long ago, Jinyoung had slapped him, once. Mark could smell the alcohol on him from miles away, but somehow shock still managed to slip its icy fingers into his heart and freeze time. Blinking, he put a hand to the stinging cheek, mouth open. Across from him Jinyoung was crying, still dressed up pretty from a performance, but his makeup was smudged and his eyes were bleary with tears.

 

Mark was curled up in his bed, on his side of the bed, completely undressed with his pale skin bathed in moonlight. The hiss and hushed spray of the shower next door was still going, and inside, Jaebum obliviously sang a happy tune. It was almost funny.

 

He had expected Jinyoung to go in, to confront his husband, to let him know that he had learned everything of the affair, but the man didn’t move a muscle. He just quivered, his eyes flashing with anger as he gazed upon the angel wings spread across Mark’s collarbone. What a lie. How unbefitting. 

 

“If you’ve lost all your self-respect to be sitting here so comfortably, Mark Tuan, I’m telling you that it is like dropping something down a well.” He spoke finally. “The only way to get it back is to jump after it.”

 

Then, he gathered up his shattered pride and left the room. After a few moments he heard the front door click shut, and then Jaebum eventually came out of the bathroom. Still, Mark didn’t move. He put a hand on his stomach and stared down at Caiyun, the little girl who Jaebum had named. The idiot didn’t even know if it was his, but he still spent hours talking to Mark’s stomach.

 

There is a thin line between love and pity, and Mark began to wonder if it had become blurred. Silent, he watched as Jaebum kissed each scar on his body and turned them into trophies, each a testament to the pain he had endured and survived. But no matter what he did, no matter who he loved, he would always have the tear-stained face of someone whose heart he helped to break in his head. He tried to stop his own jagged heart from swelling when Jaebum smiled at him so proudly, but it just didn’t work.

 

Whenever he experienced any kind of happiness, a million kinds of pain would soon follow. Guilt. Loss. Anger. He hated hoping, but his heart fluttered so terribly when he heard the doorbell. And fragile, fragile like a little bird’s, it cried in anguish when it wasn't who he wished for.

 

How much hope does it take to kill a person? It was a fine-precision art. Just enough to convince them to keep going, just enough. Hope killed the light behind his eyes slowly, raised Mark high so he could come smashing down. Hope is the cruelest thing to have.

 

So close to taking Jinyoung’s advice, but suddenly ending up here. Was that a sign from the heavens? Was this another shard of hope he could cut himself on?

 

He didn’t know.

 

“You’re right, he’s not really Jesus, and he’s not God either. Because if he was, then he never loved me from the start.”

 

Neither of them said a word for the next two hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I'm so sorry this is late! I've been having surprise exams since monday... ugh... I wrote this today for you guys and I'm glad I finished it but now I'm panicking XD I have to memorise my 1500 word history essay (it's an assignment for 30% of my grade) for tomorrow and it's 8pm now, I'm only on paragraph 1 or 2. Help. I've been having a bad day since I lost my notes for it... now I'm in trouble and I must find a way of replicating it exactly and finding the template to print it out. The only thing keeping me going is listening to Stress Come On on repeat XD because I'm too stressed right now.


	9. All My Friends are Two-Faced

Once they got back to the dorms, the pair was greeted by Bambam sitting dejectedly in the living room. He was staring intently at his phone, as if awaiting a message, but when he heard the door click he jumped to his feet.

 

“Jackson, you’re back!” He said, cheerful in the sense he was relieved to see him again, but it felt forced.

 

“Yeah, babe. Were you worried?” Jackson gathered the smaller boy into his arms and gave him a tight hug.

 

“No,” The brunette shook his head, tugging Jackson’s sleeve lightly. “I trust you. Can we talk for a moment?”

 

“Sure.” He nodded, signalling to Mark to wait a few minutes.

 

After they rounded the corner and were safely enclosed in Bambam’s room, the boy asked, “Did it work?”

 

“I… I don’t think so.” He admitted. “I tried coming up with alternatives but they fell through. Besides, the father isn’t someone who’s going to help us.”

 

To Jackson’s surprise, his boyfriend murmured, “Well… Let’s support Mark. We have each other, we always will, but he’s alone right now. The person he loves doesn’t seem to love him back very much. That probably feels… so empty.”

 

“Aww, Mooks.” Jackson scooped him up into another bear hug and held him there. “You’re right.” Looking at him now, he couldn’t bear the idea of hurting him for any reason, even if it was for the greater good. “So what do you think we should do?”

 

“Let’s wrap up promotions while he’s still not showing much.” Bambam proposed. “During the time we get between the promotions and our next comeback, we can go on variety shows but keep Mark mostly out of the spotlight. As he gets heavier, we can say he’s sick and make him stay at home for a few months. By the time he has to appear in front of the public eye again, he’ll have had the baby.”

 

“That’s a really good plan.” Jackson praised, but then he paused. “What about hiding it from the company? Our manager and staff come by often and will find out, you know.”

 

“Hmm… that will be difficult.” He chewed his lower lip absently. “Mm. Perhaps we can keep him wearing really baggy clothing?”

 

“Yeah, but making sure he won’t go public means cooperating with them.” Jackson pressed. “We’ll have to let our manager know and hope for the best. There’s no other way.”

 

“Should we call Seunghoon- _hyung_?”

 

“Well, we have no choice… we just need to warn Mark first.” The man ran a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, feeling how soft it was. “Don’t worry babe, we got this. We’re all in this together.”

 

“If you sing High School Musical I’m going to break up with you.” Bambam teased playfully, earning a light slap on his butt.

 

“You wouldn’t have it in you.” With a chuckle, Jackson leaned over and kissed him.

 

By this point, Mark was bored sitting in the living room. He was well aware that even if things seemed okay on the surface, everyone was practically going mad with the anxiety of what would happen next. It was all his fault. With a sigh, he reclined back on the couch and closed his eyes.

 

 Maybe it didn’t matter that it was his fault. Things happen as the result of combined factors from both people and your surroundings, and it’s all out of our control. It was his fault, but it was also Jackson’s fault and Jaebum’s fault or even, in part, Jinyoung. And because of all this, he couldn’t blame anyone, not even himself – not that he wouldn’t try.

 

A cold, wet surface pressed to his cheek startled him and his eyes flicked open. Looking over, he saw Jaebum just as the other retracted his hand holding the chilled peach tea.

 

“How are you holding up?” He asked sheepishly, clearly still feeling the guilt.

 

“I’m good, thanks.” Mark accepted the drink casually. “And you?”

 

“No, I’m fine.” Jaebum chuckled, shifting from foot to foot. “Why ask?”

 

“To be honest, I think you were more upset than I was.” The smaller boy popped the tab open and took a sip.

 

After a while, Jaebum shook his head and said, “That was my own fault. I was being an asshole.”

 

“Don’t worry, you weren’t. I’m the one causing trouble and you have every right to be pissed.” Mark shifted his palms, feeling the condensation sliding down his skin. “My reaction wasn’t something you expected or could regulate. That was just me.”

 

Jaebum’s eyes flashed with something Mark couldn’t place, and then he proposed, “Say, Mark… why don’t we go outside? It’s a nice day. I’m taking a walk with Youngjae and Yugyeom down to the park.”

 

“Oh,” He uttered, thinking of Jinyoung. “Okay. Just us four?”

 

“Jackson texted me earlier that he’ll be watching a movie with Bambam, and Jinyoung went back to the studio to… ah… get something.” Jaebum said shiftily. “Come on, you can drink while we walk.”

 

In a few moments, they all had their jackets on and were bounding out the door. Or rather, the two young lovebirds were. Mark simply scoffed at them. With a smile, Jaebum turned to face him.

 

“Aren’t they cute together?”

 

“No.” Came the indignant answer.

 

“Don’t you want to skip around too?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is that the only thing you can say now?”

 

“…No.”

 

Laughing together, they rounded the corner and were hit by a gust of wind. Mark shivered, his hands curling into themselves looking for warmth. Jaebum glanced over, thought for a moment and then reached out and held his hand. Shocked, Mark gave him a strange look.

 

“What? You were cold.” The leader pouted, looking anywhere but at the other boy. “I’ll let go in a moment. There’s just a small patch of cold wind here. But still,” He said tenderly. “You never used to get cold this easily.”

 

Mark was about to protest out of embarrassment, but quickly realised he should just shut up and enjoy the moment. Content, he held onto Jaebum tightly as they strolled together, just behind the two younger members.

 

“Oh look, a playground!” Yugyeom exclaimed in childish glee.

 

Grinning, Youngjae snatched his hand out of the taller idol’s grip and said, “Race you to the swings!” Before promptly dashing off, fast as a bullet.

 

Watching the two fall over each other to get there first, Jaebum asked Mark, “Do you wanna go too?”

 

“No…” He mumbled, but his friend could see the shine in his eyes.

 

Still clutching to his hand, Jaebum started towards the swings and quickly caught up with Youngjae and Yugyeom, who were now wrestling each other to get in the lead. As he neared them, he pushed them both back and out of his way, Mark in tow.

 

With a cry of dismay, the other pair struggled to regain lost ground and it looked like they would soon overtake Jaebum and Mark – then JB let go of Mark’s hand and practically flung himself forward at the swing.

 

Panting and hugging onto the blue plastic seat from where he was sprawled on the floor, Jaebum gave Mark a satisfied smile.

 

“Here, Mark,” He tilted his head and beckoned. “I got you a swing.”

 

“Idiot.” The pregnant man said with a smirk, still ruffled from the sudden chase, but he did sit down on it anyways.

 

“Whew.” Jaebum stood, shaking his head to get his fringe out of his eyes. “Good exercise.”

 

“Meanie.” Youngjae sulked. “I wanted to sit on one, then have Yugyeom sit on the other and then we could hold hands and it would have been so - ”

 

“I thought you wanted to race?” Yugyeom goaded as he pushed his boyfriend higher and higher.

 

“Yes, that was the important part! Winning was the important part!”

 

“Hey, at least let your _hyungs_ have one seat between us.” Jaebum poked.

 

“Fine~” They chimed together, giggling.

 

As the swings creaked back and forth, Yugyeom and Youngjae yelled to each other merrily. Mark smiled. They really were cute together. Taking a deep gulp of the fresh air, he relaxed and felt the wind on his face. It was gentle.

 

“JB, I’m pregnant, not made of glass. You can push a little higher.” He chided.

 

“Ah, alright.” JB nodded, almost nervous at the reminder of Mark’s condition.

 

“You… Do you think I can bring Caiyun here to play?” He asked softly.

 

Staring at Mark, JB saw how wistful those beautiful dark brown eyes had grown. His hands felt like they were burning every time Mark fell back against them and he pushed him away again. Well, hadn't he been doing that this whole time? Pushing Mark away? Shaking it off, he tried to come up with an answer. He’d noticed how shaky Mark’s voice was then. It wasn’t just a half-hearted question, it had a deeper meaning.

 

“Ye - ” He began, just as his phone rang. It was Jinyoung. “One moment.” Quickly, he took out his phone and answered it. “Hello?... What? Are you okay?” It was hard to fight the urge to grin, and when Mark turned around with that lovely expression of concern, to laugh. “Jinyoung, take deep breaths. Run cold water over it for now. We’ll be right back.” With that, he hung up.

 

“Why? What’s wrong?” Mark searched the stunned and paled faces of his friends, the dread growing.

 

“Did you leave your favourite hoodie lying on the kitchen counter?” Jaebum interrogated quite sternly.

 

Thinking it over, Mark replied, “I think… I think I did. But Jackson was going to move it for me. Why?” That was his favourite, favourite item of clothing. He’d found it in the closet the other day and was elated because he’d once owned this same hoodie back in the other universe, only he had lost it long ago.

 

“Don’t be mad at Jinyoung, he’s scared enough of what will happen. It’s just an accident.” JB soothed him, but it only made Mark scowl.

 

“What did he do to it?”

 

“It was too close to the grill and caught fire when he turned the flame on.” Jaebum admitted. Upon seeing Mark’s expression, he quickly added, “But he put it out right away to try and save it… he has a really bad burn on his arm. He’s really scared.”

 

“What about Bambam and Jackson?” Youngjae asked, his face half-buried in Yugyeom’s jacket.

 

“They went out for snacks.” Jaebum said gravely. “Come on, let’s hurry.”

 

Heart pounding, Mark and the others raced back to the dorms. His favourite yellow hoodie had all but been forgotten. Instead, images of Jinyoung crying alone in the dorm filled his head. Damn it, why’d he have to be so stupid?

 

He was so caught up in worrying that he didn’t notice the shared look exchanged between his friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry this is a little late, and recently the chapters have been coming on different days. It's been so stressful... and I haven't begun preparing for my big exams in a month of two's time so from here it will only get worse. Good new though! I got back my French exam results for the last round (finally) <3 I got 100/100!! <3 Anyways, thank you all for being so patient with me and for supporting this story. Love you all!! See you soon!!! :3


	10. I Don't Know Myself

Breaths coming short, Mark flung the door open. Darkness. Complete darkness. As a contrast to the clear sunlight outside that was nearly blinding, the house was cold and empty and black. Hands shaking, he called out Jinyoung’s name. No response.

After a moment of silence, he realised that somebody was sobbing in this pitch black. His heart plummeted. He wanted to walk forward, to find Jinyoung and comfort him, but guilt’s rotten hands held an iron grip on his ankles.

_“Jaebum?” He asked, venturing into the room._

_Instead, he heard racking sobs and froze up. Unable to move, even to blink, he stood there watching Jinyoung in the half-shadowed room. After a few moments, he figured out that the other man hadn’t heard him and took a few padded steps back to hide behind the door._

_Sitting at the table, Jinyoung’s trembling fingers stroked his wedding photo, tracing the happy smiles. A tear shattered onto the glossy sheet of paper, and with a shuddering gasp, he put it down on the table. Head in his hands, he sat there in silence until his ragged breathing began to even out._

_Mark simply sent Jaebum a text saying that he wasn’t coming and went back home. He didn’t have it in him to do this._

_With a sigh, he retrieved the red packets from his bedside drawer and counted the money again. The longer he kept it, the more his luck would grow. And the beautiful envelopes reminded him that that wonderful day really happened. It wasn’t some distant dream that dissolved into a nightmare. He had been happy once upon a time._

_If only he’d never been that happy, then he wouldn’t be this sad._

“Hello?” A wavering voice unlike his own sailed into the unnatural night.

Again, no reply. The other members brushed past him and into the room, fading from his sight. Confused and panicking for Jinyoung’s safety, he pushed himself forward one step by one step after them.

Suddenly, the lights flew on. Blinking, he barely had time to adjust before a deafening ‘SURPRISE’ rung in his ears.

“What?” He exclaimed, in mild shock.

In front of him was Jinyoung, quite alright, and grinning. In his hands he held a lovely chocolate ice cream cake topped with candles that the other members were in the process of lighting. There were pink balloons here and there, plus a big banner consisting of A4 paper taped together into a big long sheet. It read: ‘congratulations!’ in big red letters.

“We never got to celebrate the baby.” Jaebum beamed at him over Jinyoung’s shoulder. “So we decided to make it up to you.”

“Yeah!” Bambam added, “You don’t have to worry about anything, Mark- _hyung_. You really don’t. We’ll take care of it all and protect. After all, we’re friends. We stick together.”

“You all…” He put a hand over his mouth and turned away, not wanting them to see the tears in his eyes. “Why would you do something so nice for me? I don’t deserve this.”

“You do, _hyung_.” Youngjae insisted. “That’s why we did it!”

“I hope you’re all satisfied.” He smirked, facing them again. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” Yugyeom put his hands up in defense. “This was Jaebum and Jinyoung’s idea at first.”

“Where’s my hoodie?” The petite man reached his hand out and Jackson rummaged around behind a pillow before handing it to him. “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you pleased?” Bambam asked, practically bouncing with excitement. “Hehe~ your face was priceless!”

“Oh, was it now?” Mark advanced, an evil grin on his face. Reaching out, he stuck his fingers into the chocolate and dug out a lump of the mouse. Then slowly, he wiped it across Bambam’s stunned face. “Look, you have camouflage lines now.”

He was still hooting about it when a chunk of cake hit his cheek and slid down his face. Scandalized, he turned to look at Jackson, who was laughing even harder.

“Hey, don’t waste the cake!” Jinyoung called exasperatedly, but it was too late. The fight was on.

Youngjae sneaked over and grabbed a fistful, hurling it at Yugyeom and hitting his target. Chaos broke loose as they chased each other around and chocolate whizzed through the air.

“That’s enough.” Jinyoung tried again, just as a sizable piece landed in his hair.

Quickly, he located Jaebum wheezing a few feet away, clutching the entire quarter he had pilfered earlier for ammunition. He walked over and looked down at the ruined cake on the plate. Then he smashed the whole thing into Jaebum’s face, snorting with glee.

“Now that’s what I call payback!” Jackson called from where he hid behind a chair as Bambam launched blueberry after blueberry.

“What did you say about wasting cake?” Taunted Mark.

“Now _that_ wasn’t a waste.”

They laughed for a moment, their hearts connecting in a flash of happiness. Then the moment passed and they became awkward, choosing instead to direct their attention elsewhere. Well, that was progress.

Without warning, a firm hand pulled him down the hall as its owner said, “Come, quick, before they notice!”

“What?” He asked, pouting at Jackson.

“Shh.” The grinning man hushed, before presenting him with a clean slice of cake on a plate.

“When did you…” Mark began as he took it, but Jackson cut him off.

“I bought it separate. I just had a feeling this might happen.” He shrugged, before smirking. “Somehow… I had a feeling. That’s what you’re like nowadays, I never know what to expect.” There was a pause as Mark stared at the plate in his hands. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“Oh… thank you.” He said, not really knowing what to do. The atmosphere was light, yet it stifled him with some mysterious heat. “You know… I’ve been meaning to tell you something…”

“Yeah?’ Jackson perked, and there was a strange glimmer in his eyes. “What is it?”

“You… please don’t hurt Bambam.” Mark’s eyes slid shyly up to him. What was he saying? Shouldn’t he be trying to be by Jackson’s side? Or had his love died long ago? Suppressing the rising bitterness in his heart, he urged, “This must be sudden, but treat him kindly. Buy him presents. Give him little surprises. Kiss his forehead to wake him up in the morning. I know you do that sort of thing… I know you’re that kind of person… so please, I’m begging you. Don’t hurt him. The two of you belong together.” All their happy, fleeting moments flashed through his mind. None of that was his. He stole it all from Bambam.

“Mark, do you really mean that?” Jackson asked, his tone low.

“Of course I do!” He protested, intending to sound angry but his voice came out weak and cracked. “Stay with him. You deserve each other and he’s a kind boy.”

“If you really mean that,” Jackson leant in towards him, his eyes black in the dim hall, clouded in something Mark couldn’t figure out yet shining in pity. “Then why are you crying?”

With a gentle hand, he reached out and wiped away the cool salt from Mark’s cheek. The pearl balanced, shimmering, on the tip of his thumb for a moment, and then he pressed it to his lips. Blood immediately rushed to Mark’s head and his breath hitched. He watched Jackson carefully, whose eyes flicked downward in sadness. It seemed that this salt of his very soul that came leaking out the cracks… it was a pearl of sadness now carried within Jackson too.

His cheeks that had been cold just moments ago now throbbed with heat. It felt like he was being strangled.

No – _stifled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys... I forgot to update here :'( I've been super busy lately, I'll explain at the end of the next chap.


	11. There's Always a Cheater in Every Game

To Mark’s surprise, his friends remained as supportive as always. Even a few weeks later, they hadn’t lost their gusto and continued to be incredibly considerate towards him. Unused to this kind of attention, he almost expected to suddenly find out they were poisoning his food with arsenic. Or maybe out of the blue Jackson was going to punch him and scream ‘PSYCH’, then run off with all his money.

Instead, every time he tried to open a discussion on what they would do about the pregnancy, Bambam hushed him and assured him that ‘everything was under control’. Whatever that meant. Bambam had half a brain, in his opinion. Bambam’s version of ‘under control’ could very well just be ‘well, nothing’s on fire so it’s all A-Okay’.

Although life was good, he couldn’t sleep at night, which was ironic given sleep used to be his only escape. He enjoyed just getting into bed when he wasn’t even tired, and being taken away. Mostly he had nightmares and it was difficult for him to fall asleep anyway but he savored any good dreams he had and felt disappointed when brought back to reality.

Lately it was different. Every night he had the same dream where he was separated from Jackson by a glass wall. On the other side, his husband and child were laughing so happily. And then _he_ would come out. A smiling man, a pleasant man, a man who took everything upon himself and never had a bad word to say. His touch was gentle and his voice was soft. He was everything Mark was not, despite looking just like him. And no matter how Mark screamed and screamed, throat bleeding and stinging, Jackson never heard him. Nobody ever did.

When he woke with a start for the fourteenth time in a row, he opened his eyes to darkness. Inhaling deeply, he looked to his side. Jackson was snoring softly. Pushing himself groggily to his feet, he moved as if on autopilot. One step, two steps to the kitchen for a cup of water.

“Mark?” The sleepy voice pierced through the darkness.

Great. He had awoken the slumbering beast.

With a sigh, he explained, “I’m getting some water.”

“Mark…” There was a rustling of bed sheets. “Did you have a nightmare again?”

Seeing red, he demanded, “What do you mean again?”

The blankets were swept back and in moments he found himself in Jackson’s arms. Suddenly hyper-aware, he started to fight back but Jackson just held him tighter.

“Just tell me what it is. From one friend to the other.” He pleaded. “Every night, I hear you whimpering in your sleep. Or I see you pacing the room. What is it that you’re so scared of?”

“It’s not something you can protect me from.” Mark shoved him back and broke free, hot tears forming in his eyes.

“I know I can’t stop you having bad dreams but maybe I can help with what’s causing th - ”

“No you can’t!” He yelled in a ragged voice. Then, softer, he echoed, “No you can’t. Go back to sleep.”

He left, closing the door softly. In fact he almost expected Jackson to follow him but only silence tread the halls behind him. With a sigh, he went to sit on the couch in the darkness and stared at the wall. He felt nauseous but simply gritted his teeth and tried to think of something else.

 

Abruptly, he heard a click from somewhere and sat bolt upright. Trembling, he reached out and turned on the lamp. Then turned to look into the abyss of the hall, where out from the shadows came a slim figure. It was Bambam, mussing his hair sleepily. Quietly, he joined his _hyung_ amongst the nest of pillows.

 

“Bambam? What are you doing up?” Mark pressed, reaching out a hand tentatively.

 

Bambam accepted it, mumbling, “I’ve been having nightmares lately. What about you?”

 

“I… I wasn’t feeling well.” He lied, reaching up to smooth out the younger boy’s bedhead.

 

“This might seem silly,” Bambam broke the silence. “But I just want to say I love Jackson a lot. I see you guys close to each other and I mean that’s how it is between friends but… it’s different now. This time it’s like it’s something I’m not meant to see.” He turned his dark cocoa eyes to Mark, glistening wetly in the glow of the light. “And these dreams I’ve been having… I’m scared. I’m scared what I’ll become if he leaves me. I keep smiling because it’s what my mother always taught me, to smile so that you can keep things together even when it’s tough. To keep other people smiling too.” He began to choke up, pulling away from Mark so his face was dipped in darkness. “That’s what I’m scared of, hyung. If he leaves me I won’t be able to smile like that ever again. He’s the only one I want, the only one I ever wanted. I don’t want to become like _him_ … like a monster.”

 

“Who?” Mark asked, although his mind screamed at him just to ignore it and let it be.

 

“The boy in my dreams. He’s so lonely and so hurt and so broken, but nobody ever put him back together. When people come by they just cut themselves on his shards.” Bambam said, then laughed thinly. “Doesn’t that sound so deep? Well, all he does is sit and cry in an empty room. No matter what he does or who he hurts, in the end he knows he’s worthless. He’s always the second choice. He’s always the shadow.” Barely above a whisper, his voice swooped through the night like a bird falling from the sky. “He’s me, Mark. He’s what I become when it all falls apart. He’s what I become when Jackson leaves me. And I don’t want that.”

 

“Oh, Bambam,” Mark felt his heart breaking as he dragged the crying boy into his embrace. “Don't worry. Shh. It’ll be okay. Jackson loves you, you know he does. It’s just a bad dream. He wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

 

His arms still tingled when he thought of how Jackson held him, and he tensed. Things weren’t that simple, no matter how he sliced and diced it. They never would be. But could he bear to inflict that same torture onto Bambam, all over again? When faced with this cheerful, kind boy, it seemed too cruel. Everything he had done to Bambam seemed too cruel. Because looking at him now, how could he ever be a monster? He was just afraid. And Mark could understand that.

 

After a while of soothing the poor boy, he sent him back to his room and went to his bed. At first he was restless, but eventually the sound of Jackson’s breathing lulled him to sleep. It was a sound he missed having next to him, and had gradually forgotten.

 

The morning brought another day of fun and laughter. By then, Bambam appeared to have worked something out with the manager about the pregnancy, because Mark only had light practice to do. No one looked at him funny, so it was clearly a discrete exchange as well. He really owed Bambam a lot, and he didn’t know how he could pay it back.

 

“Hey,” A tap on Mark’s shoulder made him look up to face Jinyoung. “You thirsty?” In his outstretched hand was a can of soya milk.

 

Mark took it with a mumbled thanks and popped the tab, taking a few long gulps of the sweet drink. When he was done, he looked curiously at Jinyoung, who was still standing there awkwardly. Their eyes connected and Jinyoung flashed him a cheerful smile before rejoining the others in dancing.

 

“Weirdo…” He muttered to himself, but his lips quirked up into a similar grin.

 

“That’s not nice.” A familiarly smooth voice commented, scaring the bejesus out of him.

 

“Jaebum!” The redhead gasped, smacking him sharply on the shoulder. The leader just laughed. “Don’t surprise me like that!”

 

“Well, you aren’t wrong there. He can be a bit of a weirdo at times, but he’s a cutie, isn’t he?” He chuckled, his charming eyes crinkling. Glancing to Mark, he saw the older boy’s sulk and added, “Though I can think of someone much cuter.” Reaching out, he pinched his cheek and earned himself yet another slap.

 

“Playboy.” Scoffed Mark, knocking back the last of his drink.

 

“Hey, let’s go out tomorrow. I managed to wrangle free time for us out of the manager.” The man propositioned excitedly. God, he was like a loose puppy.

 

Pausing, Mark said, “I want to rest. Why spend more time with you guys when I already get locked in with you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week?”

 

“No, no, it’s not like that.” Jaebum was practically bouncing where he sat. “Just us two.”

Choking on his drink, Mark quickly spat out the rest and started to cough furiously. In a cracked, broken voice, he asked, “Im Jaebum, are you serious?”

 

“I have a surprise for you.” He insisted, very much pleased with himself.

 

“Hmm,” Mark began to smirk, putting the empty can down and beginning to examine his nails. “I’ll go.”

 

“Really?”

 

“But!” He interrupted, tittering rather devilishly all of a sudden. “Jackson’s coming too.”

 

In that moment, Jaebum really emulated the image of a kicked puppy. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Throwing a weak glare in Jackson’s direction, he let out an exasperated groan. Then he ruffled his hair. Mark really wasn’t easy lately. Oh well, maybe that was what made him so priceless. The harder it was to pin him down, the better it would feel to finally have him.

 

At least, he hoped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is so late!!! For the last week, I had family visiting and wasn't able to do anything. I'm under a lot of pressure right now because I haven't started studying yet and I have around a week left to do so for all my subjects... Thus until my exams are over I might be largely inactive. So sorry about that! They will last throughout May. When they're done, I'll get back to work. So sorry....
> 
> Until then, here's a poll to give me an idea on whether Mark should go back to his own universe or not (yep, I'm redoing it!):  
> https://www.asianfanfics.com/poll/aff_view/113175  
> And here's one on whether Mark should be with Jaebum or Jackson here (I've already chosen, but I'll take a look at what you guys think as well):  
> https://www.asianfanfics.com/poll/aff_view/113174


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